


Stuck in the Snow

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 03:10:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9415490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: Hi! Could I please request a Jesus fic (twd). Where it’s snowing and the reader gets stuck in it. She’s afraid she’ll freeze to death, but Jesus comes along and they keep each other warm (smut! But maybe they keep their clothes on) Please and thank you. AND May I request a fic with only grinding. Any pairing is fine. Maybe the reader makes her partner come in his pants!





	

Fic:

“Son of a bitch!” you scream as your car comes to a stop. You hit your hands on the wheel in anger, though you know it won’t improve your situation. Your car had run out of gas and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you froze to death. To make matters worse, there could’ve been shelter just down the road, but the blizzard makes sure you can’t see more than five feet in front of your windshield.

You were alone. All you had left in the world was this car, your gun, a few snacks, a bottle of water, and the clothes on your back. No one would find you in this weather, not that you’d seen anyone you’d want to find you in the past few months. You definitely didn’t want any saviors catching you.

With a sigh, you crawl into the back seat and curl up, hoping to stay warm enough to make it until morning. If you could wait out the storm, maybe you could find a shelter and a way to survive. Pulling your jacket tight around you, settle in, desperate to stay warm.

***

You wake with a gasp, your breath visible. Light shines through a clear spot in the car’s window, a hand continuing to brush away the snow. You inhale sharply, sitting as still as you can, though your shivering body betrays you, and holding your breath as there’s a knock on the window.

“Hello?” the man asks. You don’t answer. “Are you alright?” he continues, “I can help you.” The thought of letting him in crosses your mind. You were freezing and you knew you couldn’t make it out of this alive, not alone. “My name is Jesus,” he tells you, “What’s yours?”

“What’s your real name?” you ask in return. He may look like he could play Jesus in a movie, but there was no way in Hell that was his real name.

“You got me,” he laughs, “My real name is Paul Rovia. I’m not here to hurt you. Please let me in? It’s pretty cold.”

“How did you find me?” you ask him.

“I was on a run when I came across your car and realized the snow wasn’t as built up on it as it would’ve been if it were sitting in this spot through the whole storm. Plus there are tire tracks in the snow. They’re hard to see, but they’re there,” he explains, “I thought maybe someone was stranded so I decided to investigate. Then I found you. I want to help you, but I can only do that if you let me.”

“Why do you even care?” you ask.

“This is the apocalypse,” he shrugs, “Every life is important.” He wraps his arms around himself and shivers. “Could you please let me in?” he requests, “I’m freezing out here.”

You hesitate, deciding whether or not you can trust this man. It was a miracle the weather hadn’t killed you already, so it was either accept this man’s help or continue to suffer. Reluctantly, you crawl across the seat and unlock the door before pulling the handle and pushing the door open. The snow and cold invades the car, making you shiver.

“Thanks,” Jesus says, “Do you mind?” He points to the seat and you scoot across it to the other side. Jesus smiles at you as he gets into the car, pulling the door shut behind him. “Damn, it’s cold out there,” he continues, “How long have you been stuck?”

“Not sure,” you answer, “Hours I guess.” Jesus nods as he rubs his hands together for warmth. He cups them and blows warm air into his hands, trying to speed up the process.

“You must be freezing,” he says, “Here, put these on.” He pulls off his gloves and hat and holds them out to you. “I don’t bite,” he tells you, “I really am just trying to help.”

“Thanks,” you reply, cautiously reaching out to take the clothing from him. You pull the beanie onto your head before pulling on the gloves.

“Where are your people?” he asks, “Shouldn’t they be out looking for you?”

“I don’t have people,” you admit, “I’m on my own.”

“Oh,” Jesus says softly, “Well, you could always come back with me.”

“Back with you where?” you question.

“I’m part of this community,” he tells you, “Everything’s not perfect, but there are people there, protection, shelter, food. You don’t have to be alone out here.”

“Why would you invite me in that easily?” you ask him, “You don’t know me. I could be an axe murderer for all you know.”

“Well, I don’t see an axe,” Jesus reasons, “And you haven’t tried to kill me yet, which means we’re off to a better start than some other meetings I’ve had.”

“I haven’t been a part of a community in so long, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” you press.

“Sounds familiar,” he tells you.

“What do you mean?” you question.

“I’m part of the community, but I can never seem to stick around long,” he answers, “I don’t have family there or a real reason to stay. I use it more as a home base and spend most of my time going on runs, looking for groups we can trade with.”

“So you think they would let me do something like that too?” you ask.

“I’m sure they would,” he answers, “And I could vouch for you.”

“That’s if we don’t die out here first,” you point out, “It’s still snowing.”

“Great,” Jesus sighs, “Well, it looks like we’re stuck here.”

“We?” you question.

“I was hoping you would let me stay, at least until the snow stops again,” he admits, “But if you want me to leave, just say the word and you’ll never see me again.”

“Don’t go,” you request. You still weren’t sure if you could trust this man, but the idea of being left alone was even scarier.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer as you let yourself find a more comfortable position on the seat, “I can’t just throw you out into the cold, especially after you were nice enough to give me your hat and gloves.” Jesus smiles and nods almost to himself.

“I never got your name,” he tells you.

“Y/N,” you reply.

“Y/N,” he repeats, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Jesus,” you reply. He laughs at the way you say his nickname.

“Only my friends call me Jesus,” he teases.

“So I guess we’re friends now,” you laugh quietly. His smile fades as he looks you over.

“When was the last time you ate?” he questions.

“It’s been a while,” you admit. He sighs.

“And you’re still shaking,” he points out, “Here, take my coat.”

“No,” you say as he begins to remove his coat, “I can’t ask you for any more.” You already owed him for the hat and gloves, plus you may owe him even more if you took him up on his offer. His blue eyes watch you worriedly as you shake.

“Then come here,” he offers, “I won’t bite, I promise. I just want to keep you alive so I can get you to Hilltop.”

“That’s your community?” you ask him.

“Yeah, but you won’t be able to enjoy it if you freeze to death,” he presses. He had a point. “Do you trust me?” he asks, extending his hand towards you. You sit still for a moment, considering the circumstances. Just when he’s about to lower his hand, you accept.

“I guess I have to trust you,” you answer, taking his hand.

“I’m trusting you too,” he points out as he guides you towards him.

“Fair enough,” you mumble as you move to his side. You snuggle against him, slipping your hand beneath his jacket and fisting it in his vest. “How are you so warm?” you question, the heat radiating off him.

“Guess I’m just hot,” he comments with a smirk. You huff and roll your eyes as you melt against him, his warmth comforting you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, “If you hadn’t found me, I probably would’ve frozen to death.”

“Don’t thank me,” he warns, “We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Thank you,” you repeat, pulling away just far enough so that you can place a kiss to his lips.

“Y/N,” he begins, his cheeks turning red.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, “I haven’t been this close to anyone in a long time and I don’t know what I was thinking. We’ve only just met and you probably have someone waiting for you. I shouldn’t have done that and I understand if -”

“Y/N,” Jesus interrupts, his hand cupping your cheek. The next thing you know, his lips are moving against yours in a gentle kiss. You’re surprised at first, but you ease into the kiss as his hands slides around to the nape of your neck. Removing your gloves, you cup his face between your hands. “Damn, your hands are cold,” Jesus says as he breaks the kiss. He reaches for your hands with his own, warming them as best as he can.

“Sorry,” you mutter, upset with yourself for ruining the moment.

“Don’t be sorry for being cold,” he tells you, “Besides, I think I can fix that.” His hands move from yours and he guides you to lie down against the seat, your back pressed right up against the back of the seat. Jesus lies beside you, his arms wrapped around you tight. “I’ll keep you warm until the snow ends and then I’ll take you back to Hilltop, how does that sound?” he questions.

“I’m still not sure I want to stay,” you admit.

“Think it over,” he encourages, “You don’t have to make any decisions yet.” You draw your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. “If it makes a difference, I wish you would stay,” he adds, “You mentioned having someone to go back to and I think I’d like that someone to be you.”

“Like I said, you barely know me,” you retort.

“I know,” he replies, “But I’d like to.”

“I’m still not sure I could stay put,” you continue.

“Maybe you don’t have to,” he offers, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair, “You could stick with me. Go on runs more often than not. Then you never really have to settle, but you’re also not alone.”

“I think I’d like that,” you tell him, making him smile.

“I’ve never had a partner before,” he tells you before leaning in to capture your lips again. His hand slides around to the nape of your neck, tangling in your hair. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss as you part your lips for him.

After a time, his warmth brings your shivering to an end and your fingers and toes begin to feel normal again. You slide one of your hands to his back, the soft leather of his jacket beneath your fingertips. He shifts as you pull him closer and a gasp escapes your lips as you feel his arousal pressed against you. He’s about to apologize, but you stop him before he gets the chance.

“Y/N,” he groans against your lips. His hips rock towards you, grinding himself against you. You run your hand through his hair as you wrap your leg around his waist. He groans as you pull him against you, giving you both the friction you crave. You knew it probably wasn’t smart, but you wanted to be held by him, kissed, touched.

“Jesus!” you laugh as he turns you, lying you back against the seat. He settles himself above you, looking down at you with beautiful blue eyes.

“I really do want to get to know you,” he tells you, his fingertips brushing your cheek, “This, what’s happening right now, I don’t want you to think it means nothing.”

“What makes you think you’d like me if you got to know me?” you question.

“I’m a pretty good judge of character,” he tells you. His eyes flick away for a moment as if he’s thinking something over.

“What is it?” you prompt, brushing his hair behind his ear.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his gaze meeting yours again, “Me I mean.”

“I’m not sure,” you answer, “Right now I do, but after I get to know you I may change my mind.” You were only trying to tease him, but he took you seriously.

“Then we shouldn’t do this,” he tells you as he begins to pull away.

“Wait,” you stop him, pulling him back towards you, “I didn’t mean it, I was only kidding. I’ve been alone for so long and I think I like you.”

“You shouldn’t like me just because I’m the first guy to come along,” he informs you.

“I know,” you shrug, “But you’re a good man, I can see that. You’re kind and clever and brave, not to mention I find you attractive. Plus I owe you for saving my life, and if getting to know you is the price I have to pay for that, I’d gladly pay it.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he retorts, “If I hadn’t found you, I would’ve frozen to death out there. Your car was the first shelter I’d seen in miles. You saved my life just as much as I saved yours.”

“I guess we’d make a good team,” you reply, making him smile.

“I guess we would,” Jesus agrees. Cupping his cheek, you guide his lips to yours, capturing them in a gentle kiss. His hips rock against you, giving you both friction. You moan against his lips as you slide one hand down his back, pressing it against him and encouraging him to grind against you harder. “Y/N,” he groans against your lips.

One of his hands slides to the back of your neck, encouraging you to tilt your head to the side as he breaks the kiss. His lips move to your neck, his beard tickling your skin as he places gentle kisses. The way he moves against you makes you moan loudly, your back arching towards him. His free hand moves to your breasts, squeezing them through the material of your clothing, making you moan.

“Jesus,” you moan. You fist one hand in his hair, the other in his jacket. His hips buck against you, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He groans as you wrap your leg around his waist, pulling him harder against you.

This was what you needed, to lose yourself to someone else. You begin to get lost in thoughts of what it would feel like to have his hands against your skin, the sensation of his lips leaving kisses along your body, the feeling of him moving inside you. The friction he’s giving you brings you back to reality as your stomach twists in pleasure.

“Oh, Y/N,” he groans. Your stomach knots as he groans your name, the aching between your legs begging for release.

“Don’t stop,” you moan, “I’m close.” one of his hands moves down to your hip, holding you against the seat as he grinds himself against you. You gasp as he hits the perfect spot, your orgasm mounting. His other hand fists in your hair, his grip tightening as he nears his climax. “Jesus!” you call out as your orgasm washes over you.

You writhe beneath him as pleasure courses through every inch of your body. Jesus groans as you pull him tight against you, begging him to continue as you ride out your high. You grasp at him, tugging and pulling as you lose yourself to the blissful pleasure. “Y/N,” he groans, his body shuddering as he reaches his high. You can feel his cock pulsing beneath his jeans. Jesus captures your lips as you both begin to recover from your orgasms, the kiss deep and passionate.

Jesus breaks the kiss and props himself above you, looking down at you almost lovingly. “Thank you,” you say softly, brushing his hair behind his ear, “I needed that.”

“Me too,” he tells you. He pauses for a moment, fingertips brushing your cheek before he continues. “Have you given it any thought?” he asks, “Living at Hilltop I mean.”

“No,” you reply, “You’ve been more than a little distracting.” Jesus chuckles before kissing your cheek and moving to lie beside you again, both of you lying on your sides in order to fit. “Take me with you,” you ask of him.

“To Hilltop?” he asks in return.

“Everywhere,” you answer, “You’re a runner right? Never settling in one place for too long?”

“You’d want that?” he questions.

“I’ve been on the run for so long, I don’t think I’d know how to live any other way,” you tell him, “I think it might be nice to have someone to run with.”

“Then we’ll run together,” he decides, capturing your lips. You can’t help but smile against his lips as you pull him tighter to you.


End file.
